Chapter 4: Snow Black

Chapter 4: Snow Black

"You have now reached your destination", the ever-emotionless G****e map voice chimed to an end.

"Yeah, no Shit" Robert said, sounding audibly frustrated. "After four wrong turns and five Cul-de-sac's, I've finally reached my destination ayy?" He said, eyeing the tall, murky building and it's inconspicuous wooden door a couple meters to the side of the road. He slipped his phone back into his dark jeans and walked closer to the building, eyeing and noticing as many details as he possibly could, and there weren't exactly many of them. The dark, tinted windows plastered across its cream-colored walls. The worn-out wooden door staring him peephole to eyeball, and the disturbing doormat that read, "You can come in now. I’ve been waiting.”

Robert cleared his throat, adjusted his afro, and gently knocked on the tattered door. "Hello? Is anyone…" before he could even get the words out of his mouth, the rectangular peephole slid open, and a set of indistinct eyes peeped through.

"Password" the light, emotionless voice said from the other end of the door.

"Password?" The peephole closed shut, giving him no time to think of a response other than the one he was probably supposed to come up with.

"Hello?" He knocked on the door again. 

"Password" the peephole slide open.

"Look, I'm just here to find out what happened to my…" once again, the peephole slid firmly shut, leaving him even more confused than he was the first time. He slipped his right hand into his jean jacket and brought out the piece of paper he scribbled the inscriptions of the tombstone on. "Sixth, Seventh Driveway, Luther Street" he whispered to himself, trying to make sense of whatever the voice meant by 'password'. "Well I'm at Seventh Driveway, Luther Street right now. Meaning what the hell is the 'sixth' doing here. That has to be the password, right?" He thought to himself. 

"Hello." He knocked once more again.

"Password."

"Sixth" he answered, surer than he'd ever been. But once again, the peephole slid back closed. "Fuck!" He said a little louder than normal, trying to control his emotions. “Come on Robert, think, think, think. What does 'sixth' mean, sixth, sixth", he stopped midway in his sentence like something had finally clicked. "Sixth… It doesn’t, it doesn’t really make sense. Sixth doesn’t… wait a minute. Sixth Sense” he whispered to himself. What's the Sixth sense?" He asked himself, looking around like there was somebody there to tell him the answer, nothing more than Havilah pedestrians looking already wearied by a temperate Monday midday. He brought out his phone in a bid to G****e whatever came to his mind first, but there were no bars. He had no signal. "What the fuck? How's that even possible?" He said to himself.

And then, his eyes accidentally glanced upon the doormat once again. Then he steadied himself. Taking a deep breath in, and letting a deeper one out, he closed his eyes, journeying as far as his mind would take him. And then, he reached for the handle of the door, gently opening it, and it clicked open. "Fuck" he whispered, smiling to himself, until his eyes met with the same indistinct ones he had earlier caught a glimpse of through the peephole. 

"There you go" her light voice bellowed through the thick walls of the dimly lit building. 

"The Sixth Sense huh?" Robert said, walking in, the door immediately slamming shut as soon as he got in. 

"Intuition." The light voice once again spoke up, grabbing back Robert's attention from the shut door. "All you had to do, was open the door. Simple." 

"Okay ma'am…"

"Please sweetheart, call me Erica." She smiled.

"Okay, Ma'am. I don't know whatever the hell this is, but I just came here to figure out what exactly happened to my aunt…mother" he reiterated, "and how the hell I didn't know about this for over a decade." After a couple moments of silence, she spoke up. 

"What's your name?"

"I don't see how that answers any of the questions I asked so…"

"What…" the light bulb switched off. "Is…" it switched back on, the distance between her and Robert reducing. "Your…", it once again turned off. "Name…" this time, when it switched back on, she was standing directly in front of him, the fear and confusion in his eyes too visible to ignore. 

"Umm… It’s… It’s Robert" he whispered, taking note of her dark purple eyes, pink lips, and Bob hairstyle. "My name is Robert" he finished.

"Robert?" She crossed her hands behind her, walking back. "But you're--"

"Black?" He added. "Yeah I get that a lot."

"I guess so", she smiled, turning back halfway. "Why don't you have a seat Robert" she said, pulling up a table and two chairs to the space between them, which would've looked normal if she'd done it with her hands. 

"Ummm. Okay" Robert said, audibly confused but walking over and taking a seat nonetheless. Erica following suit a couple seconds later.

"So", she said with her set of purple peering eyes, "how can I help you Robert?"

"I… I just came to find out what happened to my aunt ma'am"

"Erica" she corrected.

"Erica. And I'd really appreciate if you'd tone down the magic tricks and answer my questions a little.”

"Magic tricks?" She smiled. "Like this?" She snapped her fingers and the entire room lit up, unapologetically displaying it's hidden details. The countless bookshelves filled with books that circled the room. The long, wooden table that ran across a particle section of the room, probably meant to bar movement past it, and the immaculately designed wooden box on the table before them. 

"Yes" Robert answered, snapping out of what he thought was definitely a daydream. "Like all these. Look…" he leaned in a little closer, making undaunted eye contact with Erica. "... I just want to know what happened to my Aunt."

"Miss Mia Martel."

"Exactly."

"She died in her sleep, a number of years ago. That's what happened to your foster mother Robert." She said without a hit of emotion. 

"Wait what?"

"You said you wanted to know what happened. I just told you what happened Robert."

"Yeah but…"

"But you still feel like a question hasn't been answered. Am I right?"

He looked at her for what was probably seven to ten seconds and whispered, "I mean… I guess so. Yes."

"Let me ask you something Robert. What did you know about your Foster Mom? Your aunt, since that's what you might feel a little more comfortable calling her."

"Ummm… I know she was a lovely woman with a kind heart. A school teacher, that was how she made her earns meet. She loved taking care of me, of us. All of us" he continued. "And she lost her husband about five years into her marriage. One of the main reasons she became a foster mom in the first place.” 

"Nice to hear you still have some fond memories about her. But… husband?" Erica asked.

"Yeah. She was married to a…”

"Who told you that?"

"Well…She did." He answered, sounding a little puzzled. 

"Oh, I see what's going on here" she smiled, leaning in herself. "I hate to break it to you Robert but Miss Mia wasn't a school teacher, neither was she married."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, there's a lot about her that you don't know."

"That we don't know, you mean" he interrupted. "Because there were seven of us. Eight, if you’re counting me. And how exactly do you know this? I don’t remember her talking about a niece or a long-lost sister, or even a cousin named Erica" Robert said, peering into her eyes.

After sitting back and letting out a heavy sigh, Erica said, "Robert, do you know you're the last person to find out Miss Mia died? You're the last person to find the inscriptions on her tombstone, and you're the last of the eight to come here, to me."

"Excuse me?"